Page 101 of Little Liar
Igor and Xander converse in Russian then laugh together. I’m led to a booth, and I flinch as Xander rests his hand on my thigh, grips it, then squeezes tighter when I try to pull it off.
“Is she behaving yet?” Igor asks. “Or do we need to take harsher measures?”
“She’s getting there. She’s following orders and knows how to get on her knees when told.”
I gulp at his lie. Why is he lying to his father?
Igor hums. “And you still haven’t fucked her?”
“Not yet. Like I said, we’re getting there.”
“That’s an issue. But then again, we still need her to marry you.”
If there’s a window nearby, I might throw myself out of it—what could be worse than this? Nothing. Nothing is worse than this situation.
“Maybe I should be the one to put another heir in her. You could pretend the child is yours,” Igor offers, and every drop of my blood runs cold.
“No need,” Xander grits out. “I’m capable of doing it myself.”
Igor hums in disapproval. Then he starts speaking in Russian again. I don’t know what they’re saying, but Xander’s hold on my thigh softens—and then vanishes as he checks his phone discreetly.
His father goes to talk to someone else, drawing his attention away from us, and I feel Xander’s lips against my ear. “Tell me you need to use the bathroom. Make sure he can hear you.”
“Why?”
“Trust me,” he whispers.
“I have no reason to trust you,” I hiss.
He rolls his eyes then looks at his father, who’s still in deep conversation. “Just fucking ask me, unless you enjoy being manacled to my family?”
My lips part as I search for any dishonesty on his face.
Then I clear my throat and say loud enough for Igor to hear, “I need to pee.”
Igor chuckles as he glances over. “Take your future wife to the bathroom, son.”
He nods, and I walk with him through the crowd, his fingers wrapped around my wrist. We go downstairs, following the signs for the bathrooms, but take a sharp right down a narrow cold corridor.
“Where are we going?” I ask, my voice shaking as my steps falter.
“I made a promise to someone that I’d get you out.” He pulls open a door to the back alley, where two shadows are waiting. “I kept my promise,” he says to one of them.
I frown. I’m about to ask him what he means when he shoves me outside. Right into someone’s arms.
Abigail’s arms.
“Olivia!” she cries, hugging me tightly as the door slams behind me. She buries her head into my shoulder and sobs. “Oh my God. I was so worried. Xan said he was going to make sure you were okay, but I didn’t believe him. I’m sorry it took so long.”
Disbelief runs through me. My friend isn’t here, hugging me, is she? Am I dreaming? Did they drug my drink? Is this all a hallucination? I blink a few times, but my best friend is still holding me. She feels warm against my cold skin, comfortable, and I fold my arms around her to embrace her back.
The rock is still in my chest, but it’s lighter.
I won’t feel relief until I’m with them. My family.
“Did they hurt you?” she questions.
“Isolated me more than anything,” I respond, no tears falling as I unravel my arms from her. “I’m fine.”
